


She Who Must Be Obeyed

by fallingfromdisgrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Mates, Nice Peter, Werewolves are still real though, sort of, well he isn't as creepy as canon Peter is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingfromdisgrace/pseuds/fallingfromdisgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia wants to get through college and have people remember her for her brain, not her body.<br/>Too bad Peter wants both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I have this mug that says 'She Who Must Be Obeyed' on it and I've always had this fic idea in my head.   
> So I wrote it (or I tried to).  
> This is completely un-beta'd and is mostly me writing at half six in the morning on no sleep.  
> This is technically my first fic on my own without the Stiles to my Lydia (WhyamIalwaysLoisLane, check her out! :P) so be kind-ish :D  
> anyway, here it is  
> Enjoy (or don't I guess, it's up to you)  
> ~fallingfromdisgrace

Lydia Martin was dressed to impress. She had long ago decided that her college life was going to be better than her high school career had ever been. No more hiding behind her pretty face, no more hiding behind Jackson’s cocky little smirk and, most importantly, no more playing dumb.

She wasn’t going to be known as the good looking but thick girl that everyone knew because she was popular. She was going to take Berkeley by storm. Or, at least, that was her plan.

Walking into her freshman Quantum Mechanics class on her first day however proved that leaving the old Lydia behind was easier said than done.

“Hey honey, you lost?” A boy with greasy hair and glasses with frames too big to suit his face called from the second row.

Lydia quirked her eyebrow at the boy and his smile faded. She smiled sweetly at him and proceeded to march right past him, seeking out a seat at the back of the hall.

The only other person on the back row was an older man. He looked at least a few years older than Lydia herself. He was wearing a pale blue V-neck that brought out the colour in his eyes perfectly. His jeans were stretched tight across his thighs as he sat with his legs opened wide, boots making an annoying tapping sound on the floor as he moved his legs in a weird rhythm.

He looked up as Lydia sat two seats down from him and she shot him a small smile. He seemed like the kind of person the new Lydia could be friends with. He returned the smile and lent across the seats parting them, the neck line of his t-shirt falling and revealing his chest, his very nice, sculpted from marble, chest.

Lydia tried not to gape and looked him in the eyes, she leaned closer to him as well, maybe this could be the start of a new friendship, she thought, if not more…

“If you really are lost you should probably get out now, because it’s going to get confusing for you very fast baby, this is quantum mechanics, a load of numbers and horrible equations,” he fake shuddered. “Not the place you want to be I’m sure.” He finished talking with a wink and Lydia instantly hated him, right down to his stupid little goatee.

Right there she made a vow to herself that she would do anything she can to keep the smarmy little smirk off his face, she was doing a favour really, it wasn’t a good look on him.

“Listen asshole, I had a 4.0 GPA in high school, took mostly AP classes and was valedictorian. I may look like a superficial airhead but don’t think for a second that that is what I actually am, especially since you know nothing about me, okay?” She raised her eyebrow and continued glaring at him.

He looked at her again, assessing her.

“Okay,” he agreed quietly.

Lydia tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned away to get her books from her bag. She heard a desk creak and turned back to see the boy looking at her with wide eyes and clenched fists on the table, his knuckles were white. He was looking at her like a starving man would look at a buffet, with awe and hunger. Both were acceptable reactions to have towards her she thought, she knew she was beautiful after all. However, the slight fear in his eyes confused her; she was as nonthreatening as someone could be. Her soft purple dress stopped mid-thigh and the grey cardigan she wore was loosely tied around her waist, showing off her curves. Her legs were bare except for some small boots that barely reached her shins. So understandably she was confused by the fear.

The more she kept looking at him however, the less scared he looked. The energy between them buzzed and Lydia found she couldn’t look away. The blue of his eyes visibly darkened as he made to close the distance between them, his eyes glancing down at her lips. Just as his mouth opened there was a loud bang from the front of the lecture hall.

Jumping in her seat Lydia turned to the front to see the professor stood, waiting to teach. He smiled and said, with a slight manic look in his eyes, “Hello, I’m Professor Finstock, and this is quantum mechanics…”

She distracted herself trying to focus on what he was saying, letting out a small relieved sigh at the interruption. She wasn’t going to be that girl, the one always obsessed with any guy that looked her way. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it’s just not how she intended to leave her mark here. No distractions she had promised herself, and now it looked like it was all going to shit.

All because of a very cocky, very attractive distraction, currently sitting only two spaces away, with a small smirk on his face.

Lydia sighed to herself. This was going to be harder than she thought.

* * * * *

 

Peter was really only humouring his sister Taila. He had no need to go to college, he definitely had no need for a degree, but, as she had pointed out, Derek couldn’t very well go away to college on his own. Since he was the closest in age, and his sister had considerable leverage over him, he was enrolled in Berkeley as a _mature student,_ Peter shuddered at the very though, mature indeed. He was only four years older than Derek (really, the less he thought about the fact his own nephew was almost a brother to him, the better) so no one could call him old at all. _Although…_ he thought, looking around his class, Quantum Mechanics, he was practically a dinosaur compared to some of the students, half of them didn’t even look like high schoolers.

 

He was wondering how much shit he would be in with his dear older sister when the door opened and a beautiful girl stepped quietly inside. She walked with her head held high and a slight smirk on her face, it was as if she knew everyone was looking at her, and what’s more, she revelled in it. She seemed completely consumed with her thoughts until a kid on the second row, Peter had heard him introduce himself as Greenburg, shouted out to her. He said something completely stupid about her leaving, as if a girl couldn’t be smart, Peter rolled his eyes. Peter braced himself for the inevitable shouting match that was going to take place, the girls eyes had a fire that seemed to blaze just beneath the surface, a fire that said she wasn’t go to let this go.

 

Instead of her shouting though she simply stood up taller, squared her shoulders and raised her eyebrow at the poor boy. The look was like a silver bullet to the heart and honestly Peter would have crumbled under it, it reminded him of his sister and how she had the ability to make him want to repent for the rest of his life with only a twitch of her perfectly waxed eyebrows. The thought of this small, unassuming girl with an alpha backbone was a laughable idea, but then again, Peter watched her climb the stairs, right to the back, maybe she would be fun to toy with.

 

She shuffled across the row, her short purple dress caught on the desks, showing more leg than she intended to, Peter is sure. Not that he was complaining.

 

Her legs seemed to go on forever, a ridiculous amount of creamy skin on show, just begging him to be traced with his mouth, his tongue…

 

She finally chose a seat, just one down from him, close enough so he could hear her heartbeat clearly over the noise the other students were making in the hall. Her heart was pumping in an odd way, either from the confrontation earlier or the climb. Or she could be nervous; the way she glanced up at him shyly confirmed his theory. Now, Peter thought to himself cockily, what could make her so nervous.

 

He grinned back at her and leant in; her heart missed a beat and then started again, double time.

She leant in as well, her eyes flashed down to Peters chest and he supressed a smirk. Now was the time to choose, be an ass or lead her on?

 

“If you really are lost you should probably get out now, because it’s going to get confusing for you very fast baby, this is quantum mechanics, a load of numbers and horrible equations. Not the place you want to be I’m sure.” He finished with a smirk, so ass it was then.

Her whole body stiffened and Peter could see a tiny glimpse of hurt in her eyes before her anger returned, this time with a voice.

She went on a well-constructed rant about how she was smart, but Peter could only look at her mouth. Her lips were full and stained dark pink, Peter could just imagine them wrapped around his… Nope, not even going there, he thought.

Trying to tune in to what she was actually saying, something about being more than just a pretty face, Peter was distracted again, this time by her voice. It was high pitched and commanding and he could just imagine the noises she’d make if her held her down and… Taking another deep breath Peter tried to clear his head. Jesus, what’s wrong with me today, Peter thought to himself angrily, I don’t even know her name.

When he looked back at her she seemed to be expecting an answer from him. Peter simply agreed with her, hoping it was the right course of action.

Seemingly placating she nodded her head at him, as if she’d taught him a lesson or something. Peter was amused but willing to let it go, after all, she would be too hard to try to annoy without putting too much effort into it. She seemed like the kind of girl who wouldn’t let herself be stepped on. Too much energy would be wasted on someone he probably wouldn’t know for more than a month. Peter would just have to give up.

He had just agreed on this when the girl tossed her hair over her shoulder and bent over to get something out of her bag. The scent hit Peter like a ton of bricks, leaving him struck dumb. Her scent was fruity, like pomegranates and raspberries, and it was the single most delicious scent he’d ever caught.

His mouth filled with saliva and his hands gripped the table to stop himself from claiming her as his own. Because that was the thing wasn’t it, or more accurately, _she_ was the thing. The only thing he’d ever want. His _mate_.

He’d heard the stories when he was little, been told from a young age that you’d just _know_ when it happened to you, when you met the person who would complete you. And apparently for Peter it was happening in a crowded lecture hall, in a college he didn’t want to go to, with a girl he’d just pissed off. Talia was going to die laughing at him.

The girl, he really should get a name at this point, turned to look back at him, her hair flowing over her shoulder and sending more of that mouth-watering scent his way. He looked at her again; this was the person he was supposed to spend forever with? A beautiful, yet smart, woman who would probably crush him like a bug if he ever dared to treat her like anything other than the goddess she was. She would be high maintenance, but the more her thought about it, the more he wanted it. He wanted to wake her up with breakfast, wanted to take her shopping for more dresses that would hug her figure perfectly and make other men jealous of him. He wanted to worship her.

He hadn’t realised that they had been leaning closer together but they had, he could easily reach out and touch her perfect curls, but he didn’t.

His eyes were drawn to her lips, they were parted slightly and each breath out of them looked laboured, like she was struggling to get enough air. Peter could sympathise.

He opened his mouth, about to ask for a name of the woman who had changed his life with a flick of her hair when there was a loud bang from the font of the class. The professor had finally arrived it seemed. Peter glanced back at the girl, _what was her name,_ but the spell was broken, she was sat straight in her chair, resolutely not looking in his direction.

She shook her head like she was scolding herself and it made Peter smile. She shot him a glare and then turned her attention back to the front of the hall.

Yeah, Talia was never going to let him forget this.

* * * * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is! Chapter two! *shimmies chest*  
> I'm hoping to start writing more often but I have some exams coming up so it might not work out *frowny face*  
> I'll try to be at least a little it regular with the updates though so, fingers crossed :D  
> ~fallingfromdisgrace

“So, who’s still listening?” Finstock barked and Lydia could barely supress a sigh. She was hardly paying attention anymore, the only thing she could focus on being the frankly intrusive stare that was coming her right. From _him_.

He hadn’t looked away once. For an hour. What was he even looking at anymore? Lydia was sure she wasn’t _that_ interesting.

The hour had started out rather simple; he would look at her out of the corner of her eye, Lydia would pretend her heart hadn’t sped up several paces under his scrutiny, take a deep breath and keep staring resolutely ahead while he looked away quickly, as if he somehow knew he’d been caught staring.

Of course he’d been caught. Lydia wasn’t queen of her old high school for no reason after all. She made it her business to know everyone else’s business, this included refining her skills of observation and keeping track of what the people around her were doing.

After twenty minutes of this little game Lydia grew bored and started to fidget. She had nervous habits, so sue her.

One of her worst habits though was touching her thighs. It didn’t sound so bad but, for some reason, when she was bored she could help but run her hands up and down the tops of her thighs, pulling her dress or skirt up. That was when he stopped looking away. Lydia could see his head titled down, following the path of her hands as they slipped between her legs.

For a split second Lydia wondered what his large hands would feel like there, would they be rough? Or would he have a surprising gentle touch? Would he take his running his hands up and then-

Lydia stopped that thought right there, he was an asshole. A cocky arrogant, attractive asshole, _who was still looking at her_.

Lydia froze and noticed that he had turned his head back towards the front, either he was paying attention or pretending, for her sake.

Lydia rolled her eyes and leant back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. She had sat up after hearing a small intake of breath from _him_ , she seriously needed a name for him now, and checked the time. _Only twenty minutes left_ , she had thought.

They had remained like that for the last twenty minutes; Lydia sat up straight, observing the weird way Finstock’s arms moved when he spoke, more focused by the movements than his words and him, staring at Lydia, like the creeper he seemed to be.

Until now when Finstock was trying to rouse everyone from their sort of daze, and was apparently not above slamming books on desks to do so.

When even Creeper McCreeperpants had taken his eyes off her to look towards the front, if somewhat reluctantly if the sigh he had let out was any indication, Finstock smiled evilly at the whole hall.

“I’m guessing that most of you don’t know many people in this class, let alone the college. So, in the interest of getting you nerds socialising, I’m setting a partner project for you to complete…”

As soon as the words ‘partner project’ left his lips Lydia froze. She could feel the cocky energy that the _asshole_ to her right was practically buzzing with. Looking around the lecture hall she realised that everybody else was paired up. Even the second row slimeball had found someone.

“Okay, so all you have to do is have a 2,000 word essay on the transformation theory proposed by Paul Dirac, focusing on what it is and one of its many interpretations. Sounds fun right?” Finstock looked out at the hall with the same manic look he’d had for the whole lecture, “Good, pair up and move out.” Finstock pointed to the door and then picked up a briefcase and left.

Squaring her shoulders Lydia turned to face him. She wasn’t going to let herself be used by this scumbag, no matter what. The only contact they would have would be to complete the project and then she would never speak to him again.

“So, what’s going to happen is this. We’re going to do this stupid project, you are _not_ allowed to slack off. We’re going to meet up in the library at a later date as I have to meet up with a friend now. I will give you my number on the condition that you only contact me with information that is relevant to our project. Got that?” She raised her eyebrow at him.

He looked a little confused and maybe a tiny bit aroused, Lydia was just going to ignore that for now. She felt slightly bad for steamrolling him like that but she had found it was the best course of action for assholes she was attracted to.

He slowly nodded and Lydia stood up. “My name’s Lydia by the way.” She added, figuring she should introduce herself considering he didn’t seem to be making a move to do so anytime soon.

“Peter,” he replied softly.

“Good to know,” Lydia looked at him. His arrogance seemed to have left him completely, but she wasn’t fooled. She knew his type well.

She reached down to get her bag when his pale arm shot out and grabbed the strap and lifted. Before she knew what was happening she was being guided across the row and he had her bag slung over his broad shoulders. She would have put up more of fight but it _was_ a heavy bag and it wasn’t like he- _Peter_ was carrying anything else.

When they were halfway down the stairs Lydia spun around and stepped into his space, she was more than a head smaller than he was, but that didn’t matter. She knew the effect she could have if she wanted to.

“One last thing,” she said and she noticed how Peter stepped back himself, almost tripping over the steps, “If you screw me around I will murder you and make sure that your rotting corpse never sees the light of day.”

Peter swallowed then nodded, “Deal.”

“Cool,” Lydia smiled, continuing down the stairs. Peter following her down slowly.

When Lydia pushed the doors open she was met with a gust of wind and the smiling face of one of the few friends she had already made. Stiles Stilinski. She sent him a small smile and then turned to face Peter.

She held her hand out for her bag and he hesitated a second before handing it over. She grabbed a pen out of the side pocket and held on to his hand. She scrawled her number down, along with her name, all the time ignoring how warm Peter’s hands felt. Again she had to cut off the thought of those hands being put to good use elsewhere.

She looked up at him, their faces closer than before.

“Until next time Peter,” she breathed.

As she was walking over to Stiles she could hear his reply, floating on the wind, her name wrapped up in his voice like a caress.

“Until then Lydia.”

*****

Peter couldn't concentrate. All his attention was focused on the strawberry blonde woman sat just one seat down. At the beginning of the hour Peter had considered leaving the lecture, knowing he wouldn't be listening but he figured he couldn't leave now. So he stayed just to save face.

He would glance at her from time to time, okay it was more like every minutes but _still_. Each time her heart would speed up slightly and she would take a deep breath, pushing her chest out in the process. It was all Peter could do to look away swiftly, knowing he'd been caught. She was more aware of him than he first thought and Peter pretended that the shiver that went up his spine was because of the temperature in the hall.

Peter decided to ignore her, it can't be that hard right? He thought to himself.

As soon as he made this decision she started fidgeting. _Oh god_ , the fidgeting.

Her delicate hands would stroke up and down her thighs, sometimes pushing her dress up, revealing more unblemished skin.

Then the hands would sneak in between the tops of her legs, pushing the dress further up, almost giving him a glimpse of her underwear... Peter tried to look away, really, but he was captivated by the movement.

Suddenly her heart rate sped up again and her fingers twitch where they rested. Her breathing spiked and her fruity scent flooded with something _spicier_. Something that made Peter’s mouth water and his palms sweat.

He slowly, and regretfully, took his eyes off her and looked towards the front of the hall.

He watched the professor flail his arms around, looking as though he could take off at any second. He seemed to be off on a tangent about how many different interpretations of the transformation theory had snaked themselves into popular culture. Apparently he was a huge fan of the way modern society had taken multi-verse and used it to justify anything. Peter rolled his eyes. As he predicted this class was a complete bore, a waste of time. Apart from one aspect of course.

Speaking of, it seemed the fidgeting was over. Peter wondered if now he could try and sneak looks at her without seeing more than she would be comfortable with.

Just as he turned his head slightly, she stretched. Not in a small, I’ve been sat for too long stretch; this was a full body stretch. Her arms were far above her head, the movement causing her dress to ride up _yet again_. She made a small satisfied noise in the back of her throat that made Peter wonder again what noises he could drag from her pink lips. Her head dropped back, baring her neck to him and Peter couldn’t help but wonder if she knew exactly what she doing to him. He drew in a quick breath and noticed how she froze again.

He looked away again and glanced at the small clock hanging just about the whiteboard. Only twenty minutes left to the end.

He spent fifteen of those minutes wondering what he could do to initiate conversation with her. He didn’t even know her name for crying out loud.

Just as he about to give up hope of ever seeing her outside of class the professor, Finstock, gave them their first assignment. A partner project.

He noticed everyone else pairing up but the slimy boy on the second row turned to look at the woman sat beside him so he sent a death glare his way. Just in case he got any ideas of pairing up with her.

He turned to her, already smiling. She raised her eyebrow at him.

“So, what’s going to happen is this. We’re going to do this stupid project, you are _not_ allowed to slack off. We’re going to meet up in the library at a later date as I have to meet up with a friend now. I will give you my number on the condition that you only contact me with information that is relevant to our project. Got that?"

The way she held herself, like she knew was completely in control and was loving every second of it, was so over confident and arrogant that Peter wasn’t even ashamed to say that he was turned on by it.

Peter simply nodded.

She introduced herself after that. At least now Peter had a named to the beautiful creature stood before him. Lydia. It just sounded right in his head.

He noticed her moving to grab her bag. Was she serious? It looked like it had an entire library of books in it. She would hurt her back carrying it around. That was his excuse for speedily bending down and grabbing it off the floor.

As he straightened up he noticed her looking him with a ‘bitch did you just’ look. After a few seconds though she just looked him over and a small, private smile appeared on her face. _Lydia’s_ face.

She turned around and started making her way across the row towards the stairs and Peter couldn’t help but notice how her hair fell down her back, the curls catching the light so naturally, the scent of fresh pomegranates practically radiating from her.

He followed her down the steps, aware of how he looked like an eager puppy; he found that he just didn’t care. After all, as his mate it was guaranteed he would follow her anywhere, why try and hide that? She spun half way down the stairs, hair fanning out and sending that intoxicating scent his way _again_.

She threatened him about screwing her around, _as if_. But when she was promising what she would do to him he noticed something happening with her eyes.

It was as if someone had dropped black ink in them, the small blood vessels were darkening, her gorgeous green irises darkening slowly. Peter had never seen anything like it. He found he definitely believed her when she said no one would find his body.

“Deal,” he said, still staring into her eyes, wondering what the hell was going on.

She blinked and just like that it was over, her eyes back to green, her smile lighting up her face again.

“Cool,” she said, and turned and practically strutted down the steps out the door.

_What just happened?_

Peter scrambled down after her, stopping just beside her outside, she smiled at another freshman, a boy. His brown eyes met Peter’s and he couldn’t help but try to guess who he was to Lydia, was he really her friend or was there something more? That was something he would have to find out.

Lydia had her hand out expectantly Peter reluctantly handed over her bag, he was just about to ask her to meet up later for coffee or something when she grabbed his hand. His whole body froze at the contact and he focused on the smooth slide of her hands, the warmth from her palm sinking into his skin. Belatedly he noticed she was writing her number down. He looked up at her just as she did the same, their faces were inches apart if that.

“Until next time Peter,” she breathed, sending fragrant air directly into his face. He was disorientated for a second, overcome with the scent. When he resurfaced she was walking away.

“Until then Lydia,” he called after her. He would be counting down the minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this is so short and it took soo long, i'm trying to get myself back into writing again now that exam results day is over (guess who is going to uni in September? me! ikr, i was also shocked) but i promise i'll try and update more frequently.  
> also, pretty much all my work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own and i take full responsibily for my abuse of the english language, so yeah, here it is :)  
> ~fallingfromdisgrace

“So who was tall dark and handsome?” Stiles asked, smiling at Lydia in his usual carefree way. In the short time she’d known him he’d never seemed down. Even when he’d approached her at the Fresher’s convention, asking for a date and she’d turned him down. All he’d done was give a small shrug of his shoulders and suggest they be friends instead. He was exactly the kind of friend Lydia needed.

“Oh, just my partner for a project we’ve been assigned,” Lydia replied, hoping he’d drop it. They started walking towards their destination, a small campus coffee shop.

“Oh yeah, the fact he is exactly your type doesn’t hurt either I bet,” Stiles winked.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Lydia smiled to herself, “but the fact he’s an arrogant, cocky asshole does.”

“Hmm,” Stiles said, sounding thoughtful. Lydia looked up and found him looking back from where they’d just come. “An arrogant, cocky asshole who still hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”

Lydia stopped, _is Stiles serious?_ Yup. He was.

Apparently Peter was still stood on the sidewalk where they’d left him. Only now he was looking after them with a weird look on his face, like he wasn’t expecting to get caught and had no idea what to do now.

Lydia’s heart thumped unevenly again. If this kept happening she would have to seek medical attention. It couldn’t be good to her health, she was sure.

Then, as if he’d heard this, Peter’s face broke into this smirk; one that took up all of his features, even his nose just looked fucking obnoxious. Lydia had had enough.

She spun and grabbed Stiles’ hand, dragging him away.

“See, arrogant,” she fumed, her morning wasn’t looking as appealing as it was when she’d woke up.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, “nice view though.”

His hand squeezed Lydia’s and she took comfort in the fact that she’d made friends with one of the few people who had no hidden agendas at all.

And if she privately agreed with what he had to say, well, that would be her own secret to keep.

In the coffee shop Lydia sat down on the couches while Stiles went and ordered for both of them. She pulled out a book and started to read over the chapter on transformation theory.

“Yo nerd,” Stiles said as he sat down heavily, “what’s with the books.”

“Just making sure I understand this topic we covered today,” she said vaguely, flicking through the pages.

“Uh huh,” Stiles replied, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the arrogant asshole in your physics class, would it?”

She slammed the book closed and finally looked up at him. He was raising his eyebrows at her from over his hot chocolate.

“It’s Quantum Mechanics actually and no it wouldn’t, I just didn’t understand a bit in the lecture,” she sniffed.

“Lydia,” Stiles looked her in the eyes, voice serious, “you already know this course up until chapter seven. You understand it all. You could probably teach the class yourself.”

They seemed to be locked in a battle of wills. Lydia didn’t want to admit to being caught in a lie and Stiles was clearly not going to let this go. She distracted herself by taking a sip from her tea. It was just how she liked it, and soothed her throat going down and warmed her from the inside.

“Maybe he did have something to do with it.” She muttered reluctantly.

“Oh I _knew_ it! Tell me everything.”

*****

Peter stared after her. He couldn’t _not_ okay? So, like in every single romance film Laura had ever made him watch, he stood on the sidewalk and watched her walk away. He noticed how she did seem to be leaning to one side, as if the bag she was carrying was weighing her down.

He also, reluctantly noticed how comfortable she seemed to be with this _friend_. He couldn’t help but note how close she stood, how their hands practically brushed each other when they walked. He wasn’t even paying attention to their conversation, too caught up noticing the way her _friend_ smiled at her like she hung the moon.

Peter was trying to gauge Lydia’s reaction to this boy when he turned and caught him staring. He said something with a smirk and then Lydia turned as well, a cross between surprise and curiosity on her face.

He stood there, clueless. Wondering whether or not to run away Peter heard it.

It, being the uneven beat of Lydia’s heart. That happened the moment they locked eyes. He smirked at her but was rejoicing internally.

She was interested, even if it were in a superficial way where he was nothing more than a hot piece of ass to her, she was _interested_. It wasn’t a hopeless venture to try and win her over. He could be quite charming after all, although part of him thought she wouldn’t react well to his attempts.

It only made him more excited to try.

As he watched she grabbed the boy’s hand and practically dragged him away, it only made him smirk more.

Peter took the long way home. Trying to think of any creatures, that he knew of, that appeared in the form of a shorter than average, beautiful girl. For that girl couldn’t be just human, she had to be _something_.

He was wondering if fate was playing a cruel joke on him and if his mate was a succubus when he arrived at his apartment.

Derek was already in and reading on the couch, but when Peter entered he jumped up.

“Are you okay? You smell weird” He said.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, not blaming Derek at all for his paranoia and anxiety. Derek’s last girlfriend had tried to kill the whole pack before Peter managed to claw out the bitch’s throat. It would give anyone trust issues. “I just need to call your mom though, nothing serious.”

“Why?” Derek sounded grumpy, like he didn’t like not being in on a secret.

“It’s nothing bad, Derek, I’ll tell you after I’ve spoken to her,” Peter said as he grabbed a soda and made for his room which was, thankfully, soundproofed. “See you in a few.”

Pulling out his phone Peter dialled the oh-so familiar number of his Alpha, and sister, Talia Hale.

She answered on the second ring. “Peter?”

“Hey, I uh, I met someone.”

He heard a shocked gasp down the line and then some rustling, like she had sat down.

“Tell me everything.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been ages again, uni is pretty busy and who would have thought maths at degree level would be so hard, not me. but i'm hoping that will make this slightly more realistic, although i'm in the UK so maybe not :(  
> but anyway, here's another chapter! :D  
> ~fallingfromdisgrace

“He was just such a dickhead, you know?” Lydia moaned, “And he didn’t even seem sorry for it.”

Stiles frowned, “so what’s the problem? You do the project; then you move seats and never speak to him again. Easy.”

“I don’t know. He sort of _changed_. Like, one second he’s all,” Lydia dropped her voice in a poor imitation of his velvet tone, “‘you should leave baby, it’s too hard for you’ and the next it’s like he _wants_ me or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, first he spends the entire hour staring at me, like I’m some kind of sideshow, then he’s all smiles and wants to do the project together. Then he picks up my freaking bag and the next thing I know he’s practically got one hand on my back, _guiding_ me to the door, like, who even does that outside of gross rom coms?” She asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe he’s just been raised with really good manners?” Stiles shrugged, “seems like he likes you though.”

“Good manners? He thought because I was wearing a dress I couldn’t understand anything. It would be more accurate to say he was raised by wolves.” She sniffed. “And oh yeah, between me telling him what to do and him just agreeing blindly, I can see it working out just perfectly.” She said sweetly.

“Maybe you just didn’t give him a chance to think. The poor boy was probably shell shocked.” Stiles joked.

Lydia giggled, “Well, if that’s how I’m going to get my way I think I’ll keep it up.”

She could slowly see how she was going to survive this ordeal. She would just tell him what to do at every point and hoped he just went along with it. That way she could probably get it done in one session and then she could be rid of him.

Even as she thought that thought she knew it would be harder than that, he didn’t seem the type to be bossed about. Or just leave something alone.

Lydia didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand she had said she was through with assholes, right? But on the other hand, maybe he was actually a nice guy who was just acting like a dick, pigtail pulling so to speak.

Either way he would be fun to play with.

“Oh god, I know that look. You’re going to destroy the poor lad aren’t you?” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair.

“Please, I don’t destroy people, and I’ve known you for two weeks at most, you don’t know all my expressions yet.” She waved him off.

“Oh, that one is seared into my head. It’s the same one you had when you absolutely crushed that girl at Dennys.”

“I didn’t crush her-” Lydia began.

“She was crying.”

“She was being rude and too obvious. All I did was say I wasn’t interested.” Lydia defended herself. Though in her head there was nothing to defend, the girl had just overreacted.

“Yeah Lydia,” Stiles said seriously, “You have a way with words.”

She laughed and slowly relaxed into the couches, taking another sip of her tea. She liked Stiles, he always seemed to know what to say to make her feel better.

“So, anything interesting happen in your classes?” She asked.

“Right, so this kid comes into European Lit looking like _death_. Like I’m talking hangover from hell mixed with influenza. So he takes a seat at the back and just falls asleep like, on his books…” Stiles get lost in his story, talking about how he now had to study for a test already because some kid couldn’t keep awake, arms flailing around and almost hitting several people.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

Later on, as she was doing her other assignments for other classes she wondered whether she should even bother coordinating with Peter. She should just do it herself and avoid him altogether. It would be easier and, as Stiles had said, she was already familiar with the material that was far past this, it would be simple.

But there was the principle that she would not let herself get walked all over and give him a good grade for nothing.

She finished her last essay and flopped down on her bed. The dorm room was small but at least she didn’t have to share with anyone. She had her privacy and could fret over this on her own.

She checked the time, 9:14. Too early to go to sleep, too late to really do anything. She sighed.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

_Hey, was wondering if you’re available to work on the project tomorrow? Around 6?_

Lydia didn’t know the number but she could at least guess at who it was. She saved the number and mentally checked her schedule. She was free.

 _That sounds fine,_ she replied.

_Where do you want me?_

Lydia read that text a few times. Was he flirting? She hoped not, he seemed like he could easily be charming and Lydia didn’t want to explore just how strong her immunity to assholes was.

It probably wasn’t that strong in all honesty.

She would just have to turn his attention at every turn.

She was smiling as she sent the text.

_Library. Don’t be late._

_*****_

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” Peter said, already feeling like a sulking child.

In his opinion he had every right to sulk. He had basically driven his mate away, his mate who was an unknown creature. Apparently one with the ability to make sure he would never be found if he so much as toed the line. And now his alpha, and older sister was about to get a stitch from laughing at him.

“I won’t, I promise,” Talia’s voice soothed him over the phone, it helped him collect his thoughts.

He took a deep breath and began his tale from the start of that seminar. He described her in perfect detail, even down to her vibrant green eyes. Talia couldn’t quite hold back a chuckle when he mentioned just how flawless her skin was. Peter briefly touched on his teasing of her and the subsequent tense stare off. He also glossed over all the little movements that had drove Peter mad during that hour, _was it really just an hour_ , he thought, it’d felt like longer.

“And now I have to do a partner project with her, and she _hates_ me,” Peter complained.

Talia sounded like she was trying to stifle a laugh, “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you Peter, maybe you rub her the wrong way, but let’s face it, you have that effect on most.”

“You didn’t see her though,” he muttered, thinking of how her eyes had changed, how she seemed to be something else, something not quite human.

His silence seemed to hint at the direction of his thoughts.

“There’s something you’re not telling me isn’t there?” Talia asked quietly.

Peter sighed and moved to sit down on his bed. “She’s… something else.”

Talia giggled this time, “Of course she is, she’s _your mate_. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, it’s only natural.”

“Not like that, she’s something supernatural, I just know it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, her eyes changed while she was, uh, threatening me,” Peter admitted.

“What colour?” Talia asked, her interest clearly piqued. He could just imagine how she’d be sat in the large study, sprawling over the green leather chair and twirling the telephone cord round her fingers.

“Not really a colour,” he said, frustrated, he had no sphere of reference for this. “It was like her eyes suddenly went bloodshot, but with black instead of red and her irises darkened.”

There was a quiet gasp from the other end of the phone.

“What did you say her scent smelt like? Pomegranates?”

Peter confirmed this, wondering what the hell it had to do with anything.

“I have a theory, but I’ll get back to you later about it. In the meantime try to make it up to her, and text her as soon as you hang up okay?” Talia said, sounding quite stern, not his usual carefree sister at all. This was his alpha giving him orders.

“I will.” He promised, it wasn’t one he would have trouble keeping to be perfectly honest.

“Okay, talk soon.”

The line went dead and Peter contemplated throwing his phone across the room and sleeping but instead he saved the number from the back of his hand into his phone and pulled up a text.

What would he say though?

He couldn’t just ask to meet up could he? He supposed that was the point of Lydia giving him her number, but it still didn’t seem right.

After five minutes contemplation he decided Lydia was not the kind of person to appreciate small talk anyway.

He quickly typed out a formal sounding text, asking to meet the next day then pressed send before he could worry about the wording too much.

Now he just had to wait for a reply.

He tried to distract himself from the importance of his interactions with this girl. He’d heard the tales of the ‘wolves who had met their mate and then been separated. They all ended the same way; the wolf went mad without their other half to ground them, anchor them to humanity and became feral, killing nearly everyone in their way, clearly searching for their mate again.

He needed this to work; he didn’t want to think about the alternative.

His phone pinged with a reply. He grabbed it quickly and scanned the text. She sounded indifferent to him, which was better than hate right?

Peter internally cursed himself for sounding like a twelve year old girl with their first crush and typed out a short text asking where to meet. It was slightly cheeky, he was trying to break the ice, so sue him.

The reply he got a few minutes later informed him that the ice was still frozen quite solid and would take a jackhammer to even crack.

_Library. Don’t be late._

_Oh well_ , he thought as he lied down on his bed, _there’s always tomorrow_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so this chapter is just Lydia's POV as it is quite long, Peter's POV will be up when i've written it though, so don't worry.   
> As always, any and all mistakes are my own, and i would be grateful if you could point them out so i can fix them :)   
> Hope you enjoy  
> ~fallingfromdisgrace

Lydia was almost late. She had spent most of her free time thinking about the ordeal that was to come, that she had set off five minutes late. She was currently hurrying across the campus at 5:58pm, trying to move quickly, but not look as though she was rushing. Turning the last corner she could see the front doors of the library and with it Peter.

He was leaning casually to one side, talking with a younger boy, one possibly Lydia’s own age. He was shorter than Peter, but still considerably taller than Lydia herself, and had dark brown hair and slightly tan skin. They were having a whispered argument until Peter seemed to notice her approaching. He stood up straight and dismissed the younger boy with a simple, “we’ll talk later, okay?” He started towards Lydia.

He was wearing skinny jeans again, this time with a black V-neck without a jacket. The t-shirt dropped low enough to show his collarbones, and the sleeves pulled tight on his arms. He approached her with easy confidence and a sort of swagger in his step. It was a very good look in Lydia’s humble opinion, the image was ruined however, by the first words out of his mouth.

“My, my, look who’s late,” he said with a grin.

Lydia just raised an eyebrow as the clock overhead started chiming the hour.

“I don’t think I want to work with you anymore,” she said.

Peter’s whole body seemed to flinch, like she’d just told him some shocking news. Lydia also noticed his breathing had sped up considerably, like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs.

“Why’s that?” He managed to get out. His voice sounded forced, gruff and like he was under great strain.

Lydia frowned at him and noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. The boy from before was back and was looking at Peter with a fierce concern, like Peter was in danger. He was stood at least ten feet away, just watching them, but by his stance he was ready to move forward at any moment.

Lydia swallowed; feeling like her next sentence had a lot of pressure put upon it. “I don’t know if you’ll be any help to me if you can’t even tell the time?”

It came out more like a question as Lydia didn’t know what to say. Things had gotten very tense, very quickly. It was evidently the right thing to say because Peter’s body relaxed and a nervous smile crossed his face. The boy started making his way towards the pair.

Peter laughed and threw his arm around Lydia, already starting to walk into the library. In the movement he’d managed to grab the bag from her shoulders and slipped it over his own instead. She was still wondering just how he’d done it when he leaned into her and seemed to take a deep breath at her temple.

“I’m sure I’ll manage to wrap my head around it,” he promised.

“Peter, you okay?” A new voice said from behind them

They broke apart and Lydia was still confused, _who the hell is this? And what the hell was happening?_

“I’m fine Derek,” Peter replied rolling his eyes.

Lydia stood awkwardly between them as they seemed to have an intense conversation with their eyes. She coughed.

“Well, not that this isn’t fun,” she began with a smile.

“Oh sorry, Lydia, this is Derek, Derek, Lydia.” Peter pointed between them.

Suddenly a mischievous grin appeared on Derek’s face.

“Oh, I’ve heard _so_ _much_ about you.” He said, holding out a hand.

She took it, glancing at Peter, who was throwing a bitch face in Derek’s direction. She didn’t think she wanted to know anything that was said about her.

“Well, that just sounds like one of the top three conversations I _don’t_ want to have. Ever.” She said with a smile, grabbing Peter’s hand and practically dragging him away. She called back, “It was nice meeting you!”

She left him stood there, staring blankly after them, she practically marched through the doors and went immediately for the third floor.

On her first trip to the library she had found the perfect table. It was hidden in the stacks and had lots of plugs in easy reach. She had silently claimed it and luckily it had been empty every time she had come, so she hadn’t had any awkward moments yet.

The table was, thankfully, empty this time as well. She sat down and looked at Peter expectantly. He was just staring at her blankly.

“I’m going to need my bag back if we’re going to do any work, Peter,” she snapped, not feeling too patient at that moment. She was still confused but decided to just deal with it later. “So, who was he? Friend? Roommate?”

Peter blinked slowly and then sat down, passing her bag back to her as he got comfortable in the hard, wooden chairs.

He scoffed, “Nephew actually.”

Lydia paused. _Nephew? Shit,_ how old was this guy?

“Uhh-”

“Although,” he pressed on, “the age gap is closer to being brothers, rather than a usual uncle-nephew relationship.”

“So, how old does that make you?”

“Isn’t that one of those questions you aren’t supposed to ask?” He joked, looking at her nervously. Lydia raised one eyebrow and gave a small shrug.

“Well, I’ve already asked now haven’t I?”

He seemed to consider her for a moment, “22, that’s how old it makes me, and if you even consider singing that stupid song, I will have to kill you right now.”

She smiled and hummed the tune under her breath as she opened her books.

“So I personally think we should do the easiest interpretation of it, multiverse.” She said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “then we can touch on Schrödinger’s cat and things like that. That okay?”

She glanced up to find him staring again.

“That sounds perfect.” He said, his voice becoming a low hum on the last word, drawing Lydia’s eyes to his mouth. A mouth that, despite Lydia’s resolve, was starting to look very inviting.

There was a tense moment then Lydia said, in a small voice, “You write the introduction, I’ll go find a book on Schrödinger for the main body.”

Peter sighed, “Okay.”

To Lydia’s surprise he got out a notebook and a pen and actually started writing. She sat watching him for a minute, his handwriting closer to calligraphy than just plain cursive, all big loops and swirls across the page.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and then stood.

Lydia felt calmer when she was wandering around the stacks. The hundreds of books surrounding her seem to separate her from the outside world, and she was free to just be.

Strolling around the physicists section, Lydia started her hunt for the right book. The library had so many books that most were irrelevant, and only one, usually the last one she tried, would suit her needs. Erwin Schrödinger had an entire shelf to himself, so the sorting began.

She picked book after book up, spending more time there than she had planned. She glanced at the clock, 6:37pm, she idly wondered what Peter was doing right now, if he’d finished his part, if he was just sitting doing nothing now she was gone. She wanted to go back and check on him but felt that would be too much like she was a teacher, she would trust him with this at least, and she only had a few more books to check now.

The last one was of course the one she wanted. It was up on the top shelf and Lydia had to stretch to get it down. According to the introduction it was a book on the Schrödinger’s Cat experiment and how that explains the possibility of more than one timeline of events. It was just what she needed, so she flicked to the first chapter and started to read. Her brow furrowed in concentration and she chewed on her bottom lip.

She stayed like that until there was movement in the corner of her eye. She looked up to see Peter walking towards her.

“I finished the introduction and then did the conclusion,” he smiled easily, “I didn’t realise you’d take so long. Find what you need?”

“Yeah,” She smiled back, “this book is basically perfect for what we need.”

“Good,” he agreed, then took a step closer. Lydia took one step back and she hit the bookcases. Peter gave a soft smile at that.

The silence was filled with tension as they just stared at each other, his eyes burning into her.

“Screw it,” he whispered with a cheeky smile.

He reached for her and the book was suddenly taken from her hands and he was _everywhere_. His lips crushed her and pressed her into the book case, his hands gripping her hips, simultaneously pulling her closer. Lydia’s hand shot to his head and buried themselves in the short hairs at the base of his head, opening her mouth and trying to get him closer.

He let out a small noise, and then his hands were on the pale skin of her thighs, pulling one up and around his hip. Lydia gasped as the friction rubbed her just right and threw her head back. Peter started kissing her throat hungrily, grinding further into her.

Lydia opened her eyes and saw bookcases. Everything came back then, where she was, who she was with. It was like being doused in ice cold water. She pushed at Peter’s shoulder’s, trying to get him off her, for a horrifying second she thought she wouldn’t be able to get him to move.

“Stop,” she said, clear even though her voice was shaking slightly.

Peter scrambled away from her and took in the way her whole body was trembling. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen for it again. She was slightly ashamed of how easily she’d just given in to him, did she have no self-respect at all? He stood there, looking distraught and confused but Lydia couldn’t care less. Her body was flooding with an unknown emotion, shock? Anger? Anger sounded better right now than trying to deal with anything else.

“I fucking _told you,_ ” she hissed, taking a shaky step towards him. “I told you not to try anything, but you did anyway. I don’t know why I thought you’d listen, men like you never do. You’re all the fucking same.” Lydia wanted to scream, it was like a feeling on the tip of her tongue, trying to force itself out of her mouth. She could just scream and it would feel so much better, or she could hold it in and stay frustrated, or at least that was what her brain was telling her.

She took a deep breath, tried to ignore the slight hitch, turned and walked back to the table.

She packed up her things in silence, ignoring the looming figure in her periphery. He stepped closer and Lydia cowered slightly. The book she was looking at before was placed gently on the table; it had a piece of lined paper tucked into one of the pages.

She picked it up and took it to check it out; the paper had a good opening and a conclusion on it. More than enough for her to work with, at least he’d done this so she didn’t have to see him again.

She placed the book in her bag, which, for once, he wasn’t trying to carry for her.

“I can finish the rest of this and hand it in tomorrow,” she said, voice monotone.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. Lydia got the feeling he was saying sorry for more than what just happened, but she wasn’t going to read into it now.

Looking at him Lydia noticed he seemed more on edge than usual, like he was close to losing his normal composure.

“I-”

“Don’t say anything now,” Peter urged, “sleep on it, tell me tomorrow if you hate me or not. Please?”

The word caught her off guard and she found herself agreeing to him anyway.

“Okay,” he said to himself, he seemed to be reassuring himself.

“See you tomorrow,” she replied.

Lydia turned and walked away, leaving him there.

Tomorrow would be hell.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the long wait (again) lets just say i am the worst at procrastination (or the best depending on how you look at it :) )  
> so yeah, the other half to the previous chapter, in which Peter is a nervous wreck and messes up   
> all mistakes are my own, if you spot one please point it out so i can fix it :)  
> ~fallingfromdisgrace

Derek was trying to ruin his life.

After finally leaving his room to get food the previous night Derek had sat him down and demanded to know what was happening. Peter had explained and of course the little shit just had to be curious about Lydia. So when he'd heard that they were meeting today, or rather, when he'd stolen Peter's phone and found the texts he'd sent to her, he just had to stop by.

And now he just wasn't leaving.

It was almost six and here he was, stood outside the library having a whispered argument with his own nephew, sometimes he thought Derek was too much like Talia for his own good.

“I don't care if you want to see her, you have to go now,” Peter said through gritted teeth, for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

“Maybe I need to make sure she's good enough for you.” Derek said, smirking.

Peter rolled his eyes, “This isn't just some fling Derek, she is my mate. Even if you hated her it wouldn't make a difference, she's all I want, ever will want.” He'd tried to explain this last night, but Derek still wasn't getting it.

Derek looked at him like he'd grown another head, “Well I still need to-”

He blanked Derek as he heard that familiar heartbeat. Lydia was here, finally.

“We'll talk later, okay?” He both interrupted and dismissed Derek and for a second it seemed like he was going to argue, but then he just turned and walked away.

Lydia was looking exquisite today, she was wearing a simple dark blue dress with pink shapes dotted around it. It cinched at the waist, emphasising her curves, and stopped at the tops of her thighs, make her legs look never ending again. She was wearing black heels today so she only stood a few inches shorter than him. She clearly knew how to dress and had to know what impact she had on those around her. Peter could see at least five other guys staring at her as she approached him.

“My, my, looks who's late,” he smirked at her, hoping she knew he was only teasing. Hopefully today would go better than their disastrous first meeting.

Lydia raised an eyebrow as the library clock started chiming. Shit, he thought to himself.

“I don't think I want to work with you anymore,” she stated it easily, like a comment on the weather, like she'd not just tore his heart out of his chest. She wasn't going to give him a chance at all. Panic overcame him as images of the monster wolf shape he'd imagined as a small child, the one he would become without her. Completely feral. The thought was repulsive to him at the moment, but he'd heard how it drove the wolf insane until it would be all he wanted.

He didn't want that for himself.

“Why's that?” He managed to choke out, terror tightening around his neck, making it hard to breath.

In the back of his mind he could feel that some pack was close. Derek must have felt his panic and come back to see what was wrong. At least he would try and stop Peter doing anything too harmful to innocent bystanders.

Through the haze Peter noticed Lydia looking warily over his shoulder, did she miss anything?

“I don't know if you'll be any help to me if you can't even tell the time.” She said, somewhat uncertainly.

Peter felt he could collapse with relief. It was a joke. She didn't mean it. She was just messing with him.

He reached out to grab her into a hug, he still needed some reassurance after all, but then realised that it would probably be inappropriate.

Instead he just threw his arm around her and took the heavy bag off of her delicate shoulders again. She really needed to start packing light.

He leant into her, pressing his nose at her hairline. Taking a deep breath of that irresistible scent, he drank it in, almost becoming intoxicated with it this pure, not contaminated with any other scents.

“Peter, you okay?” A familiar voice interrupted.

Fucking Derek.

He reluctantly let Lydia go and tried to tell his nosy nephew that he was fine. He was staring daggers at Derek, hoping to convince himself leave by sheer will alone.

“Well, not that this isn't fun.”

Shit, he supposed he should introduce them, it's not like they weren't going to meet at some point.

After a brief introduction Peter hoped to part ways and finally get on with the project.

“Oh, I've heard so much about you.”

The little shit. Peter was going to murder him.

Lydia just stood up straighter, “Well, that just sounds like one of the top three conversations I don't want to have. Ever.”

She grabbed Peter's hand and dragged him away, calling something over her shoulder to Derek.

Peter didn't quite catch it, he was too captivated by the heat of her hand in his. Her skin was as smooth as it looked and he found himself never wanting to let go.

He was dragged upstairs at a pace he was surprised she could keep in those shoes.

They finally reached their destination, a small table in the stacks. It smelt faintly of her, as if she'd been here many times before, a favourite spot of hers perhaps?

“I'm going to need my bag if we're going to do any work, Peter,” she snapped. “So, who was he? Friend? Roommate?”

Peter sat down, sliding the bag off his own shoulder and passing it to her over the table.

“Nephew actually,” he said with a snort, watching her reaction. She didn't disappoint.

Her heart kicked up a notch and she sucked in a startled breath. He could almost see the gears turning in her brain, probably asking how he could have a nephew that age and still be this young.

He cut off her next question, taking pity on her and explaining how Derek was more like a brother to him, in age and familiarity. He left out how they had grown up in the same house with their pack, were raised together and were each other's best friends.

“So, how old does that make you?”

Peter paused. He didn't want to alienate himself so soon by being too old.

“Isn't that one of those questions you aren't supposed to ask?” He tried to brush it off, but she was persistent.

He paused again. “22,” he confessed, “that's how old it makes me, and if you consider singing that stupid song I will have to kill you right now.”

He heard her humming the tune to the pop song quietly as she arranged her books on the table.

They finally started discussing the project. Lydia had a good plan for what to do so he just let her take the lead. He sat there and agree to whatever she wanted. It was her condition for working together after all; she would point, he would follow.

He noticed her looking at his mouth sometimes, and in those moments her scent became hotter, spicier.

He wanted to drown himself in it.

Shaking himself out of that thought he began writing the introduction.

She stood and wandered into the stacks, leaving him alone.

He could still hear her heartbeat and the occasional quiet hum, presumably as she found something interesting.

He finished the introduction easily enough, and sat back in his chair. He glanced at her notes on the table. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to see what she was going to do for the main body. He found a sheet with the plan on it, she'd even written a summary for what each part was going to say or explain. Her argument was clear, concise and well explained. She was clearly above averaged intelligence, perhaps above higher intelligence, if she did all this without researching beforehand.

He found the summary for the conclusion and figured he might as well write it. Maybe Lydia would be back by the time he'd finished.

Ten minutes later and she still wasn't back. Her heartbeat was slow and relaxed, she was clearly in her element now, she was probably enjoying being surrounded by nothing but books, she seemed the kind of girl who wanted to gather as much information as she could. Books were good for that purpose.

Another five minutes passed and he decided to go to her.

He found her in one of the physicists aisles, she practically had her head buried in a book, lip bitten in concentration.

He couldn't help but admire the sight she made.

He started down the aisle just as she looked up at him.

He informed her of the work he'd done, only slightly hoping she'd be pleased with him.

She seemed to have what she wanted, so it seemed their little library excursion was a success and may help him into her good books.

He stepped closer to her and she stepped back, into the bookcases.

Peter could smell her scent getting hotter again, filling with something that made him want more.

“Screw it.”

He grabbed the book out of her hands and wrapped his arms around her hips, dragging her flush against his body. He crushed his lips to hers and God.

They were just as soft as they looked and Peter melted into the touch, she clearly felt the same as she buried her hands in his hair, trying to pull him closer still.

A small moan escaped her and Peter found himself wanting more again.

He pulled one of the thighs up and around his waist, grinding into the heat that was suddenly exposed to him.

Lydia threw her head back and Peter took it as an invitation. His mouth latched onto her neck and he took a deep breath, taking in as much as he could.

She shook for a second then her hands went to his shoulders, pushing him away.

“Stop,” she said, her voice was shaking and she smelled briefly of panic.

It was like Peter had been shocked, he move away from her quickly, but still looked her over to make sure she was okay.

Her lips were bruised and swollen and her cheeks were flushed, but Peter couldn't even enjoy that image. Because she was trembling, from fear? From anger?

He took a deep breath. Shame.

Peter didn't know what to say to that, but as he watched the shame turned to rage.

She took a step forward, “I fucking told you, I told you not to try anything, but you did anyway. I don't know why I thought you'd listen, men like you never do. You're all the fucking same.”

Peter was frozen, watching her as she seemed to choke something back, another insult perhaps? Another completely justifiable reason why she hated him? How he'd messed everything up?

Her breath hitched as she walked away, he followed. She packed up her bags and he stood far away, giving her space, not knowing how he could try and apologise for this.

She examined the intro and conclusion he'd written, seemingly satisfied she put it in her bag. Peter couldn't help regret writing them now, he had no other reason to see her.

“I can finish the rest of this and hand it in tomorrow.”

And that would be it, she wouldn't talk to him again.

Peter fought back the panic he could feel building.

“I'm sorry.” He said, hoping Lydia understood what he was sorry for. He was sorry for everything. For the kiss, for being an asshole, for not listening.

He was nervous, he knew this would be the moment when she turned to him and told him to leave her alone.

He couldn't bear that right now.

Peter cut her off, telling her to tell him tomorrow whether or not she hated him, he sounded desperate to his own ears but he didn't care anymore.

Thankfully she agreed.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, and walked away.

He stood in the library foyer for longer than he'd like to admit, staring after her and thinking.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been ages, again, but uni has finished for the year, exams are officially the worst, but finally over :)  
> This is the last chapter but I'm thinking of continuing it as a series if anyone thinks thats a good idea? It would just be oneshots set after this, or if there's anything anyone wants me to write I am in need of inspiration and would be glad for prompts :)  
> Massive shoutout and thanks to whyamialwaysloislane for leaving me to go on holiday and finally making me finish this, love you!  
> and thanks to everyone who's actualy stayed with this story (and put up with my terrible updating habits) you're the best!  
> ~fallingfromdisgrave

Lydia couldn’t sleep that night; which was a surprise to no one.

Earlier on in the night she managed to finish the assignment. It was easy enough with an introduction and conclusion already done. She had been slightly surprised to see that the work Peter had produced complimented her own writing. He included the official vocabulary with ease and his sentences flowed perfectly. She was confident in her grade for this.

So with that set in stone and already tucked into her bag in a folder she had nothing else to be anxious about.

But when was that ever the case?

She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen tomorrow. She didn’t want to admit it to herself but she didn’t hate Peter. She truly wished she could, but deep down she knew she didn’t and probably never would. There was something about him that seemed to draw her in.

When her clock read 3:47am she gave sleep up as a bad job. She just lay there thinking about what she wanted to say the next day.

She was angry, but had no idea what the anger was directed at. She couldn’t be this angry at him just because he’d read too much into a situation and acted without thinking, when, to give him some credit, Lydia was at fault just as much as he was. She had kissed back, encouraged him. She may have even enjoyed herself.

Until, of course, she thought she was getting played, and had fallen for it.

But had she?

As much as she hated to admit it, he didn’t seem like a bad guy. Sure he was smarmy and full of himself but he didn’t seem the type to just throw her away at the end of the day. She couldn’t explain how she knew it, she just knew that whatever happened between them wouldn’t be a quick affair.

That part probably scared her the most.

Her alarm clock glowing 4:11am in the darkness was like a sick joke to her.

She had to face him in the morning, and still had no idea what she would say. Doing so on hardly any sleep would be a nightmare.

Deciding she would actually take Peter’s advice, and see how she felt in the morning, she rolled over once more, and this time found sleep.

Walking across the campus in the morning Lydia could feel eyes on her from all sides. It felt like the whole college was staring and judging her and she couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how much she tried. She was holding the assignment in a thin cardboard folder, her and Peter’s name scrawled across the front, and wearing one of her short, comfortable dresses. Today it was a dark navy one with random pink splashes of colour.

Walking into the lecture theatre in the morning was an ordeal in itself; she could see him from the door, already sat in the same seat as a few days prior. Taking a deep breath she started climbing the stairs, all the way to the back. Lydia could feel his eyes on her all the way up and across the rows.

When she sat down one seat down from him again she could feel her heart beating double time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, placing the file between them, “your work is very good.”

“Lydia... I wanted-“ he began.

“Can we start over?” She finally looked at him; he had large bags under his eyes, as if he had found sleep difficult as well.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she took a deep breath to steady herself, “hello, I’m Lydia, I’m a dog person, I like tea and I’ve been screwed over by boys so many times that I have issues trusting people.”

She held out her hand.

He looked at it for a long time, long enough for Lydia to start getting nervous. Finally he took it.

“Hello, I’m Peter, I’m a dog person but prefer coffee, and I understand.” He smiled at her.

She felt herself relax and return the smile, this wasn’t too bad.

Finstock chose that moment to make a grand entrance, coffee cup in one hand and used the other to bang on the desk.

“Yo, whaddup nerds. What do you have for me today?”

Peter smirked, picked up the file and climbed over the row to go hand it in with the rest of the students. Lydia got her notebook out, smiling to herself.

When Peter came back, climbing over the desks again, he sat next to her.

He just glanced at her, smirked and then started taking notes.

 

*****

Peter couldn’t sleep.

There was too much resting on tomorrow for him that he couldn’t even attempt to relax. He just sat in his room, impatient waiting for dawn to come.

This must be how prisoners on death row felt, he mused to himself.

He stood up and decided to get a drink, he met Derek in the hall.

“Can you just _not_?” Derek said, his eyes almost closed in sleep.

“Can I not what?” Peter asked, genuinely confused.

“You’re all anxious and stressed and it’s leaking through the bond, I can’t deal with it. I can’t sleep and I have a nine o’clock lecture tomorrow morning. Peter it’s two o’clock already.” He whined.

“Sorry Derek, it’s just I don’t know what else to do. I can’t just relax.” He frowned.

“Why don’t you go for a run? Get it off your mind?” Derek suggested, not unkindly.

Peter actually liked the sound of that, he could just for a quick stretch around campus, it would calm him a litter to be in fresh air again.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thank God,” Derek said, already turning to go back to his room, Peter only noticed now that he had his comforter wrapped around him and his hair was a mess.

Peter ran round the campus twice, it didn’t take him long at all, didn’t even make him out of breath, He supposes that’s the perks of growing up in a werewolf family, constant patrols of territory and playing in the woods gave him an unbelievable stamina. Or maybe that was just the werewolf gene’s effect anyway.

He slowed down to a walk and wandered through the middle of campus. He let his feet guided him, wandering aimlessly.

Or that was what he thought he was doing.

He ended up outside a dorm, this one was the single room ensuite type, and he could hear a very familiar heartbeat coming from inside it.

He looked around and found a tree he could sit in, closest to the window where the heartbeat was coming from. It was only when he was practically lying on one of the thicker branches that he realised the heartbeat wasn’t slow with sleep. It was beating the same as when he saw her the other day, if a bit uneven.

She was still awake.

He checked his phone, 3:24 am. _What was she doing up?_

He heard her sigh and then some shuffling, as if she couldn’t get comfortable. Then another, this one more like a huff and some more movement.

It seemed like she couldn’t sleep either.

It made Peter feel guilty, she was probably still angry at him.

He stayed in the tree for another half an hour, listening to Lydia toss and turn. Her sighs grew more and more impatient and annoyed as time went on; she was clearly not enjoying the sleeplessness that seemed to have hold of both of them.

It made Peter feel worse.

After about three quarters of an hour he heard her heartbeat slow, the frantic pounding becoming more of a quiet thud in his head. The sighs stopped, replaced by slow, steady breathing. She had finally fallen asleep.

If only Peter could do the same.

He stayed for another hour, letting her heartbeat wash over and calm him down.

When he finally got back to the apartment it was well past six, having taken the long way back. He dropped into his bed for an hour of restless sleep. His trip out had worked in relaxing him slightly, but it only lasted for a while.

He had dreams of becoming rabid. Shouting for people to help him, to stop him. He dreamt he stabbed Derek through the back, that he murdered his own family to get to his mate. He dreamt he killed Lydia. He woke up in cold sweats, the image of her lifeless body in his arms still strong in his mind.

He had twenty minutes until his eleven o’clock lecture with Lydia, so he threw on some clean clothes and left. He stilled arrived before her, he took his spot at the back again.

He hadn’t been sitting long when the door opened and she walked in.

She was in a dress again, a pretty blue and pink one, but today had tall heels on. She glanced around and then climbed the stairs, her curly hair bouncing with every step. She reached his row and started shuffling across as she had done the other day. She took the seat one down from him and used the file, presumably with their work in, to separate them.

“Thank you,” Lydia said quietly, she spoke to him without actually looking at him; her eyes were cast down the whole time. She complimented his work but Peter was done with the small talk.

He meant to apologise again, to offer anything if she could forgive him. It was obvious she was distrustful of men, and in his head he could see why. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt there were men before him who had taken advantage of her, just used her for her beauty. Peter wasn’t like that, but he knew he could come across as though he was.

She cut him off before he could get his words out, asking to start over.

To _start over._

It was better than anything he could have hoped for.

He agreed to her quickly, not wanting to miss his chance.

“Hello, I’m Lydia, I’m a dog person, I like tea and I’ve been screwed over by boys so many times that I have issues trusting people.”

She stated it like a well known fact, like she was commenting on the weather. He could tell she was still hurting over it, and it annoyed him that someone could do that to someone like Lydia.

He looked at the hand between them, thinking over what to say. He didn’t know what would make it better for her without patronising her; after all, she was strong enough on her own.

He took her hand, feeling the warmth soak into his own.

 “Hello, I’m Peter, I’m a dog person but prefer coffee, and I understand.” He smiled.

She smiled back while they were shaking hands and Peter felt his heart skip a beat.

Finstock burst through the doors then, he strode into the centre of the room and banged on his desk.

“Yo, whaddup nerds. What do you have for me today?”

 _This guy_ , Peter thought to himself, amused.

He quickly got up and went to give in their work.

When he returned he saw that Lydia had gotten out her notebooks, she was looking down with a pen in her hand.

Making a spurs of the moment decision Peter sat directly next to her, he was so close he could feel her body heat on his arm.

He smirked at her and then began taking notes.

 

*****

A few days later.....

Lydia walked up the few steps to the library, she had three more assignments to complete, all were simple and she felt she could get them done in one session. That was why she was climbing the stairs to the third floor on a Saturday morning.

She had only showed one other person her little hideout and hadn’t given it any thought at the time. But when she got to her usual table she found a cardboard box on it.

She dropped her bag and picked it up, it had her name on it in a familiar loopy writing.

 _Lydia_ , it read, _just in case I forget in future_.

Opening it she couldn’t help but laugh, it was a red mug, and on one side it read:

She Who Must Be Obeyed.

**Author's Note:**

> So I obviously don't own Teen Wolf or anything, the characters belong to Jeff Davis to do with as he pleases, I'm just using them for fun :P  
> Comments are gold :D


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